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She had sent Ned a note demanding he meet her here this evening. He would not refuse for she had told him she would make a scene if he did not. He would come, if only to tell her gently that he was not ready to take on a bride. She knew that and that was why she was driven to desperate measures. She meant to undo his pants and climb on before he knew what she was about. She wouldn’t scare him off this time by talking of love…only desire.
Even if he resisted her and did not give into her seduction, she would make it look as though he had. That wouldn’t be hard. She would ask for a parting kiss and she would make certain it was timed perfectly. She would tear her dress and expose herself…
He was young, so young and innocent. He would not know her game until it was too late. She knew he would never love her, but he was young, and he could be easily seduced.
Her stepmother wanted her to marry Ned because of the position and wealth she would attain. However, though she needed and wanted those things, she had quite another reason for wanting to marry Ned.
Her hand went to her still very flat stomach. Flat now, but in a few months…? It
was an unthinkable situation to be in. She had thought she had timed herself before going to his bed. How had she been so wrong?
How could she have been so wrong about him? She really believed he loved her. She had thought he would stand by her and acknowledge that she was worthy to be his bride and the mother of his child.
He was a cad. He told her he didn’t want her or the child. He meant to leave her to fend for herself.
He was a wretch—wicked and deceitful. She had loved him, probably still did love him, wantonly so, but when she told him she carried his child…he had told her he would never marry her. Why had she fallen for his earlier lies?
She had been stunned at first, but now, now she had to protect herself and get her revenge. She had the means to destroy the blackguard and she would, but not until she was safely engaged to Ned.
She had forced a meeting with her lover the day before just to watch his expression when she told him what she knew, and what she would do with what she knew.
His eyes had filled with hate and had she not been so exultant at the prospect of getting her measure of blood, she would have probably been hurt. A part of her still wanted him—loved him. She hoped he would change his mind and take her as his bride. She knew she was a fool.
Now, her only hope was that Ned would be naïve enough to be seduced this night, and then believe he was the father of her child.
A sound behind her made her turn and thinking it was Ned, she put on a forced smile.
Surprise arched her brows. “What are you doing here?” she exclaimed.
* * *
Ned had excused himself from the dinner table earlier than was his habit, leaving Mandy to suffer their chatty aunt alone, as Celia had taken dinner in her room.
Soon, Mandy’s manners ebbed and she rose, making a vague excuse as she left her Aunt Agatha to linger over her second helping of peaches and cream alone.
Mandy wandered to the front parlor, a room that jutted out onto the front lawns at a right angle. It had a window seat where a collection of plants reposed in green array and she slipped in amongst these and gazed out the diamond panes at the dimly torch lit drive.
She was always telling her brother that she knew much more than he believed and tonight she knew exactly what was going on and was heartsick over it. Ned had gone off to meet Celia, even after all her warnings.
This could have disastrous consequences for Ned. Celia meant to have him one way or another and she rather thought that Ned could be seduced by the woman, in spite of what he had told her. He was young and Celia was beautiful and tempting.
A sound at her back, made her turn and she found Roberts, their butler clearing his throat to announce the arrival of Mr. Alfred Speenham.
This piece of news drew a resigned sigh from her as she folded her hands into one another against her middle. It was easy enough for her to smile in spite of the fact that this particular visitor was not welcome, for Mr. Speenham’s figure often inspired a grin.
Her dark eyes looked past Roberts to find a thickset man of average height whose light brown curls gleamed with pomade and whose features seemed blurred in his puffed countenance. He pushed past the butler, saying that he was sure he was if not expected, most welcome.
Mandy nodded at the butler who then withdrew and she was left to stare at Alfred Speenham’s long-tailed coat of bright blue over a florid waistcoat adorned with many fobs. His white-topped boots also caught the eye as he had regretfully decided to decorate the white tops with brass buttons.
Alfred was yet another cousin. His father had married into the maternal side of the family, received his one spawn and the same day his son entered the world, his wife, sadly left it. He became a complacent widower.
They lived some miles to the south of Sherborne Halls, and were more often than not forever popping in on them whether invited or not.
Mandy was only sure of one thing when it came to these two family members—she didn’t know which she held in greater contempt, father or son.
“Amanda darling, how divinely angelic you do appear framed in all that verdure,” Mr. Speenham declared as he smiled broadly and came across to her. “It suits you…most certainly it suits you.”
Already bored and wishing she were elsewhere, she scarcely was able to do more than give him a half smile and say, “Do you think so? I wonder how I may contrive to have just such a background when I move about—since it finds favor in your eyes, so it must in everyone’s.” Mandy returned drily.
